Just Another Test
by KayaBellezir
Summary: The flock was finally getting life back together when Erasers showed up again. The flock has been separated & each member detained seperately. Jeb's test for Fang & Max is to bring the flock back together, but some don't want to return...[FAX] Ch 8 UP!
1. Prologue: Nightscares

**DISCLAIMER: I am the owner of _The Rebel Unforetold _and_ Just Another Test_. Not. Maximum Ride. Unfortunately.**

**AN: I changed all the Fangs to Maxes and vice versa. And changed the necessary details obviously; Max does not have long black hair, etc. It was way too clichéd. All the fan fix start to blur together…**

"Fang? Fang, wake up." Fang opened his eyes to see Jeb Batchelder standing above him, shaking his shoulder. "Breakfast in five minutes."

Fang groaned, rolling over to look at the clock next to his bed. Six o'clock already. "Why didn't you wake me earlier?" he asked with expressionless eyes, sitting up.

"You need to get your sleep," Jeb said, handing Fang the cold cup of coffee he was reaching for blindly with eyes closed. "I saw you and Max sneaking back inside at one o'clock last night. You can't hide things from me." He smiled and ruffled Fang's hair, but was interrupted by the harsh shriek of an oven timer. "Alright, I'll go finish breakfast. Will you wake the others?"

By now, Fang had downed the cold coffee with minimal gagging, then jumped nimbly to his feet as if he hadn't been blinking stupidly in the light a moment ago. He strode over through the open door to the bathroom, and submerged his head under the faucet. "Sure," he said, the sound garbled by the spluttering as he inhaled water.

With a chuckle, Jeb left the room to finish cooking. Meanwhile, Fang dried off his face, leaving his hair to drip dry around his shoulders, feeling sufficiently more awake due to the cold water. He pulled a nondescript black hoodie over his black t-shirt and shivered; the hardwood floors of his room were cold in the mornings. Sitting down on the bed, he pulled on a pair of uncharacteristically fuzzy socks (black) over his feet and went to wake the others.

Iggy and Gazzy, in their room, awoke with groans, pulling their pillows over their heads. The corners of Fang's mouth twitched—after a year of bunking in the same room, they had developed many of the same routines. He pulled the pillows away from his friends, flipped on the lights, and left them to deal with the morning.

Next, Fang pulled open Max's door, poking his head in tentatively. However, there was no sneak attack this morning; it was oddly silent. Normally, Max was up before dawn, flying or reading or just thinking, but tonight it was oddly silent in her dark room. Creeping in silently—after years trapped in the School, the flock woke easily, ready to fight—Fang stepped carefully around piles of books toward the bed.

Reaching Max's bed, Fang put out a hand and shook Max on the shoulder. Her long dirty-blonde hair was covering her face, the blankets pushed down by her feet. Fang shook her gently on the shoulder—Max was a light sleeper. However, she didn't move, and kept on sleeping. Puzzled, Fang shook her harder, saying tiredly, "Wake up, Max."

Hearing a noise in the hall, Fang looked up from his task towards the open doorframe. A small boy stood there, looking in, but his face was far from its normal youthfulness. Rather, it carried a look of malevolence, his eyes bright with malice. "She won't wake up," he said, his voice haughty.

"What are you talking about, Ari?" Fang asked irritably, with a rare show of emotion. "She's just tired, that's all. We were up late flying." He rolled the light teenaged girl over, then inhaled a breath sharply when he saw a dark crimson stain surrounding a small hole in the shoulder of Max's shirt.

"Max!" But she didn't wake up.


	2. Fang: Sparks more ways than one

**DISCLAIMER: I am the owner of _The Rebel Unforetold_. And _Just Another Test. _Not. Maximum Ride. Unfortunately.**

Fang awoke to the muted sound of an explosion in the distance. He kept his eyes shut for a moment longer than usual, the only sign that his dream or sudden awakening had affected him. Then, he shook himself and jumped to his feet, following his ears at a run to the site of the explosion.

The forest was cool and dark, the leaves through which he ran slapping his face with dew. His night eyes could see by the first light of dawn, the deep greens and browns of the forest muted. Fang had fallen asleep away from the rest of his flock, after leaving to go flying. He liked the flock—no, loved the flock—but after a long day, they were just too much. Five kids, including one certain eleven-year-old who could generate paragraphs of speech off one thought, drove him a little nuts at times. He had to go off on his own every now and then to hear his own thoughts.

Fang was unsurprised to find Iggy as the source of the explosion. The blind boy's face was covered in grey ash, and the tips of his spiked red-blonde hair singed. Iggy kicked dirt over a small blaze on the forest floor, his hands thrust nonchalantly in his pockets. "Hey, Fang," he said, though he had given no sign of sensing Fang's silent approach. "Did I wake up anybody else?"

"Prob'ly," Fang said, unconcerned. "What were you trying to do this time?"

Iggy frowned at the small crater in the earth, as if to make it disappear. "Angel wants a sandbox," he muttered. "I thought I'd save us a lot of shoveling. You know she won't want a little four foot square hole in the ground. Not our Angel."

Fang gave a rare chuckle, surveying the charred ground. "Tough luck. So what went wrong?"

"Stupid bomb went off in the air as I dropped it," Iggy said, rubbing his singed forehead. "Cheap thing. So it took out some plants and – er, me."

Then Iggy lifted his head, which he tilted to the side, his ears pricked. "Morning, Max."

Behind them, Max stepped out of the trees into the small clearing, her hair disheveled and eyes bleary. "You shouldn't have been playing with bombs in the first place," she lectured half-seriously, as she punched Iggy in the arm. "You're _blind, _Iggy. You're going to kill yourself one of these days." Then she laughed to show Iggy that she was joking.

Uncharacteristically, Fang had started slightly when Max had emerged from behind him. He was still shaking off the last remnants of that dream. Then he realized that all three of them were standing there silently, looking at the small hole in the ground.

"Are the others awake, then?" he asked, glancing up at Max.

Max snorted. "Are you kidding? Those three would only wake up if someone came in carrying pizza. They're still out cold." She looked up and saw Fang looking pointedly at her, his dark eyes unreadable. She stared back at him, as if to start a contest, but then saw his eyes stray to her shoulder, then back to her face.

Mystified, she looked down at her shoulder; it was only her dark purple shirt. "What are you looking at?"

Fang shook his head, and then looked up at the sky. "Just making sure you were okay."

Iggy turned his sightless eyes toward Max, then Fang, then back at Max. He raised his eyebrows, shaking his head, and stalked off to go start breakfast.


	3. Iggy: What's hot, cheesy & carbalicious?

**DISCLAIMER: I am the owner of _The Rebel Unforetold_. And _Just Another Test. _Not. Maximum Ride. Unfortunately.**

Iggy muttered to himself about love_birds_ as he walked offOnly dawn, and already this day was totally sucking: first the failed bomb, and now this. The bomb was what really bothered him, though. He had finally gotten the dye to grow out of his strawberry blonde hair, and now the ends were burned black. Not that he could see them. But he could tell by the smell of burning hair.

He sighed. The bomb had been fashioned from a paper towel tube out of a men's bathroom, a bobby pin that Max would never miss, a battery from one of those dumb _try me _toys at a toy store Angel just _had_ to go in, and a candle nicked from a Catholic church. Yes, stealing from a church. Iggy knew that was crossing the line from little stealing to, well, slightly bigger stealing—it was only a candle—but since the Voice had disappeared and the credit card maxed out, Iggy wasn't going to waste the flock's money on materials for bombs.

Six months ago, the flock had rejoiced when Max had stopped suffering from headaches, and the Voice had stopped offering "advice." However, their celebrations had been short-lived when they had tried to pay for a hotel one morning and had been kicked out. Their credit card was maxed out, and now the only money they had was that which Angel _convinced _people to give to the nice little orphans.

And now, on top of all this was Fang acting all messed up, looking at Max as if they were _married, _for God's – _ow_. Iggy suddenly found himself knocked on the ground, staring up at the tree-veiled sky. Instinctively, he thought Erasers, but then realized that he had actually just banged into a tree. Sometimes it sucked being blind. Especially when he was too busy ranting in an inner monologue to pay attention.

Cursing himself in an undertone, Iggy stood up, brushed off his aching behind, and rubbed the bruise he felt forming on his forehead where he had hit a low tree branch. _Lovely, _he thought irritably. Still raving, he stormed into the clearing where they had all (minus Fang) slept that night. Before he reached it, Iggy tried to clear his expression, not wanting to be a jerk and freak out the younger kids. Iggy didn't often get mad, except when fighting Erasers, and well—they could make anyone mad.

But Iggy's heart softened when Angel got up and threw her arms around him. "Where were you guys? Where's Max?"

"She's talking to Fang. I had a little…accident," Iggy admitted, running his fingers through his charred hair. He pricked up his ears for Nudge and Gazzy, and heard only the hushed breathing of child snores. Turning his head back in Angel's direction, he asked, "So Angel, it looks like you get to decide what we have for breakfast. What'll it be?" he asked her, brushing her braids out of her face.

"Pizza!" Angel exclaimed, brightening. "Please, Iggy?"

He laughed. Even if pizza was strange for breakfast food, he would have to go into town for supplies no matter what Angel wanted, unless she wanted some canned tomato soup (all they had left), so pizza actually sounded pretty appealing. Even for breakfast.

"Okay, Angel, he laughed. Pizza it is."

Angel cheered, and behind her Total exclaimed, "Pizza!"

Iggy laughed as he knelt down to wake up Nudge. "Nudge, wake up. I need you to watch Gazzy and Angel while I got out for pizza, alright?"

Nudge groaned and rolled over, pushing Fang away. "Mmmph. It's still _nighttime. _Leave me alone." She moaned, shielding her eyes against the sunlight.

Iggy shook her harder. "Wake up! I'm counting on you." Nudge finally sat up, glaring full force at the blind boy.

"I can't believe you're waking me up!" Nudge ranted. "I mean, it's so early! What time is it? Where's Max? Are her and Fang off somewhere making out? I hope not, 'cause that would be totally gross. I mean, they're practically brother and sister. That would be like me kissing you…ew gross. Isn't there a word for that? Incense or something? Anyway, where are you going? Are you getting breakfast, 'cause I'm _starving."_

While Nudge stopped for air, Iggy answered, "Sorry. No, it's not. Almost seven. Out talking with Fang. I hope not. Yeah. Not really. Double ew. Yes. Incest, not incense. To a pizza place. Yeah, me too." He smiled as Nudge finally rolled out of her sleeping bag, looking confused. "I'll see you later, Nudge."

Angel waved goodbye as Iggy spread his wings to their fullest extent and took off into the air.

Man, it felt good to be in the air again. Even after just a single night, Iggy missed flying. On land, there were obstacles to trip over, people to deal with, and roads to follow. But in the air—nothing got in his way but the odd plane, he and the flock ruled all the space, and best of all, there were no roads he had to follow, footsteps to follow. He could go _anywhere._

But now, he had somewhere to go. He followed his mental map of the surrounding area, heading back the way they had come the previous night back into town. From there, he regretfully dropped to the ground in an alleyway and resorted to actually _asking _where he could find a pizza place.

Luckily, there was one nearby, and Iggy reached it with minimal sympathy from passersby, mostly due to his dark sunglasses.

The pizza joint was a small, locally owned place called Louie's. Inside, it was warm, like a brick oven, and inside the smell of wood smoke filled the air. Iggy inhaled deeply, smiling; the smell reminded him, not surprisingly, of the smell of explosives. Despite the good smells, however, Iggy wished he were anywhere but here. There were too many people here—it was crowded and loud and he felt like he was going out of his mind.

Shifting impatiently in line, Iggy tapped out a beat on the countertop, wishing he were out getting bagels or something, rather than pizza.

'_Why were all these people getting pizza at seven a.m.?'_ was the last thought that ran through his head before he smelt animal, and heard a growl behind him. The next thought was : '_oh, crap.'_


	4. Angel: Brothers, Lifeguards, and Erasers

**DISCLAIMER: I am the owner of _The Rebel Unforetold_. And _Just Another Test. _Not. Maximum Ride. Unfortunately.**

**A/N: Has anyone noticed how all the MR writers are connected? If you click on one person's name you will eventually get to all the others, and see all the stories you have already read. It's pretty funny…okay, going to start writing now.**

Angel woke Gazzy up by rolling him back and forth, saying his name over and over. "Gazzy, wake up, wake up! Gazzy…"

He blinked his eyes once, ran his hand through his blonde hair, and shook himself awake. "What is it, Angel? Is breakfast ready?"

"Fang's getting pizza!" Angel said excitedly, pulling the Gasman to his feet. "And _we're _going to the beach to get sand for my sandbox!"

The eight-year-old laughed happily at his little sister's enthusiasm. "The beach? Awesome!" He pumped his fist in the air, letting his wings unfurl through the slits in his windbreaker. "Wait, where're Fang and Max?" He looked over to see Nudge, who had rolled her sleeping bag over her head and gone back to sleep.

"Nudge?" Gazzy asked, peeling back her sleeping bag to see her sleeping face.

Angel grabbed his hand and pulled him away. "Don't wake her up! We're going on the field trip alone!"

"All by ourselves?" Gazzy asked. "Cool! We can go swimming, and you can talk to the fish, and maybe we can borrow some bogey boards!"

By now his voice had risen to an excited shout. Angel whispered, "Shhhhh. Don't wake up Nudge, she'll make us wait for Max."

As they launched themselves into the air, unfurling their wings, Angel continued, "We can do all that, but first we have to get sand for my sandbox. Now that we're going to have a real house, I want a sandbox more than anything in the _whole world!"_

Her brother smiled and gripped Angel's hand more tightly as they pulled above the tree line into the open air.

The November air was crisp and clear, and the trees below blurred together into a mass of green, then faded into city as the two siblings passed over the city of Grimstead. The flock was currently staying on Gwynn Island, off the coast of Virginia. It was a small, idyllic island, mostly inhabited by fishermen. The coast was beautiful.

It was there that Angel and Gazzy went, to the cool, sandy beach. The morning sun was warm, but it was too early yet for it to have heated up the sand. To warm themselves up, the two winged children ran along the beach, laughing and pushing each other. After a few moments of running and nonstop-laughter, both collapsed on the cool sand, clutching their ribs.

Angel put her hands behind her head as she looked up into the sky. She closed her eyes against the harsh sunlight but still saw a rosy orange glow through her eyelids. Content, she cast out her mind to read Gazzy's.

_I wish the rest of the flock were here, don't you? _Angel heard her brother think towards her.

Although Angel and Gazzer didn't share a "psychic sibling connection," they had discovered that they could go one step further using Angel's mind powers. She could already read minds, of course, but also in her power to influence other people, the siblings found that she could influence others' thoughts. Therefore, she could place thoughts in Gazzy's head, thus producing conversation.

_Not really, _Angel replied in Gazzy's mind. _I wanted Max and Fang to have some time _together. _Fang should totally propose, and then they can get married, and I'll be the flower girl! And then they'll have babies, and we can—"_

"_Hey, Angel, slow down, _Gazzy laughed aloud. _That would be gross. I don't want Max and Fang making out everywhere. Besides, they've never even kissed each other._

Angel smiled smugly. _Maybe that's what they're doing now._

Blowing air out her nose, Angel took another big gulp of seawater and opened her eyes. Underwater, everything was an eerie green, her hair floating like seaweed behind her. The ocean floor was teeming with life.

Angel loved being underwater because it was so quiet in her mind. On land, she could hear everyone's thoughts, and it was often so loud that she could barely hear herself. In water, however, she could only hear the fish, who were quiet anyway. As a bonus, the water was so insulating that she couldn't hear anyone on the surface.

Spotting one rainbow fish, Angel's eyes lit up and she leaned forwards so that she was almost nose-to-nose with it.

_Hello, there, _she thought happily towards it.

_Big no-fins, _the fish thought back to her. _On no-water. _The fish sounded alarmed. _Lots of big no-fins._

Startled, Angel pulled back. "Erasers!" she breathed, but it came out as three bubbles of air chasing each other to the surface.

In a moment, Angel was chasing _them, _racing up to the air and sunlight—and hopefully, her big brother. Popping her wet, corn-rowed head out of the water, she yelled, "Gassy!" and felt for him with her mind. Nothing. All she could see was open water, and all she "heard" in her brain was the "voices" of a few tourists wondering what the little girl was doing two hundred yards out to sea.

"Gassy!" Angel looked frantically around, but all she could see was a blonde-headed lifeguard who seemed to be heading towards her. She supposed it _would _look a little strange to see a child alone, even one who looked about nine years old, out swimming in the deep water, yelling and thrashing about.

Angel's first instinct was to duck underwater and swim back to shore under the surface, but she realized that (a) she didn't see her brother on the shore and (b) perhaps the lifeguard would know what had happened to him. So, she waited for the lifeguard to meet her, too tired out to swim to meet _him_.

"Are you alright?" The young man's voice was soothing and melodic, quite charming, actually.

"Yes, I'm alright, but I can't find my brother! Have you seen him?"

The lifeguard's mouth suddenly morphed into a wide, but quite unbecoming, wolfy grin. "As a matter of fact, I have." And then everything went black.

** R&R! Well, I guess you already got the first 'R', if you're down here by now, but anyway...'R'! **


	5. Nudge: To The Rescue

**DISCLAIMER: I am the owner of _The Rebel Unforetold_. And _Just Another Test. _Not. Maximum Ride. Unfortunately.**

Nudge awoke to the unpleasant sensation of a rough tongue on her feet.

"Wake up! Nudge, wake up!"

The girl rolled over, pulling her feet back into the warmth of the sleeping bag, away from Total's tongue. Then she opened her eyes with a start, looking around wildly.

"Where's Angel?" She demanded. "Where's Gazzy? Oh crap, Iggy's gonna kill me. Did you see where they went? Aren't Max and Fang back yet?" Nudge threw off the sleeping bag, jumping to her feet and unfurled her wings rapidly, through slits cut in her sweatshirt.

"They went to the beach to get sand for Angel's sandbox! I've been trying to wake you for _ages! _They wouldn't take me with them, because Angel knew I was going to wake you. Come on, let's go! Northeast!" Total jumped into the arms of Nudge, who leapt into the air, flapping her wings rapidly.

Two minutes later, the beach pulled into view. Nudge hurriedly landed, not wanting to show off her wings for all the world to see. Well, all the tourists, anyway.

She ran on foot onto the warm sand towards the ocean, ignoring the indignant cries of beachgoers as she inadvertently kicked sand onto their towels and into their eyes.

"_Angel! Where are you?" _Nudge called in her mind, afraid to yell out loud in case there were Erasers in hiding. A moment later, as she knew she would, she felt herself lose control over her own body, which was running towards the pier. She saw, with her enhanced hawk sight, four distant men dragging away a struggling Angel.

Then her body came back under control, and she kept running in that direction, trying to lengthen her strides even more. The pier was only four hundred yards away, but she could see the Erasers going into action. They had Angel's hands tied behind her back, which was difficult, as the little girl had five times the strength of a normal six-year-old. After all, she was _much _more _everything _than a typical six-year-old.

In another minute, Nudge arrived, not even panting, in a dead sprint onto the pier. One of the four Erasers carried Angel in his burly arms as he launched into the air to follow his fellow cronies.

For a split second, she hesitated, afraid to show off her wings when there were people on the beach, but then Total barked, "Save Angel! The Erasers already showed themselves! You'll be fine!"

With that, Nudge decided, unfurling her wings once more and beating them powerfully, quickly catching up to the wolf…bird…male model-type freaks. Nudge had never engaged in a battle with Erasers on her own, but she was more than confident, especially after the first Eraser dropped when she plucked out a large handful of his feathers on her way upwards after Angel.

Due to his screams, the other wolf men realized that they had company. They stopped rising, positioning themselves for battle. The tallest, who sported a walkie-talkie headphone in his ear, was fleeing, Angel still struggling in his hairy arms. The other two dropped down to take out Nudge.

Nudge flew up to the one on her left, delivering a sharp punch to his stomach. However, his stomach was so firm this did little damage. Instead, this gave him time to deliver a harsh kick to her ribs. The air flew out of Nudge's lungs (and air sacs) with a _woosh_, but before even taking time to catch her breath she clapped her hands over his furry ears. Howling, he dropped like a stone, his eardrums popped.

Meanwhile the second Eraser came up behind her and pulled her wings back behind her, then released. Nudge swore as she started falling, and the mutant above her flew up to help his leader. At that moment, Total launched out of her arms, beating his record of twenty-five feet as he leapt out of her arms, sinking his teeth into the rising Eraser's ankle.

This gave Nudge a chance to catch up, regaining her momentum and catching Total when he released his grip on the Eraser's ankle when the lupine man swatted at him with a sharp set of claws.

"Thanks. One more minute and I would have been dog pancake!" Total barked loudly over the rushing sound of wind in their ears

"No problem!" Nudge shouted over the wind as she came up behind the Eraser, gripping one of his wings in each hand as she kicked repetitively into his back. When he went limp, she let go, letting him drop down to the ground half a mile away.

_One more to go. I'm coming, Angel. _

**A/N: Sorry, I'm not really capable of ending chapters with anything but cliffies. Please review, it boosts my fragile teenaged self esteem_ -scoffs and mocks the psycho-babble.-_**

**But anyway. Reviews love writing more. Also, when y'all are reviewing, does anyone know how to see how many 'hits' you've gotten? As in, how many people read your story? **

**Muchas gracias. Mucho amor. Mucho no sabiendo hablar en espanol. **

**Kaya**


	6. Gazzy: Nothing good comes from beaches

**A/N: This chapter was posted last week, but then I realized it was too short, so I added on a new scene…Anyway…here we go…**

**Disclaimer: If I had a claim to Maximum Ride, there would be more fluff. And Lissa would be eaten. By a human-paper shredder hybrid. Owned.**

Twenty minutes earlier

Gazzy looked around, squinting in the bright sunlight, and then smiled when he saw a light corn-rowed head pop up out of the ocean several hundred yards out. She looked up and waved, then ducked back down under the waves.

Despite the cliché, the Gasman felt his heart warm as he thought of his little sister. He couldn't help it. Even Erasers would smile (wolfily, but still) when Angel smiled—well, not that Angel did that much smiling when Erasers showed up. No one did. But anyway.

One day in school – not the _School_ (Gazzy shuddered), but the one at Anne's house – Gazzy's third grade teacher had told them to write an essay about their families, and to describe a color that represented them.

The prompt was shamefully easy, Gazzy had thought, more like a kindergarden project, but he had still enjoyed picking a color for each of his flock. Obviously, Angel was gold. Young, innocent, and bright, she stood out in a crowd as one of those sweet little kids you just have to give a lollipop to. It's just a rule.

Fang had been purple, not black, as most people would expect. This was a dark, rich purple, royal, if you will. The oldest boy of the flock had three distinct personalities—black, when he was fighting Erasers or protecting Max, dark blue when he was with the flock, and red when he was angry, like that day on the beach. Gazzy had gotten the shivers as he wrote that: black Fang was scary enough, but that day—eek.

Iggy was green. Sometimes he was an army, olive green, when he was building bombs. This was the serious Iggy, who was motivated and would never give up. But the rest of the time, Iggy was a bright, neon green—as willing to be a kid as Gassy himself.

Nudge's color was orange. One day the flock had been walking down the street in San Antonio, Texas, when they stopped to watch an artist painting a riverside. Before he painted, he coated the entire canvas in a thin orange undercoat. He said that it was to fill in the background, so that if there were any gaps in the later layers, there would still be that warm orange showing through. Nudge was like that—filling up the space with warmth and color.

Max was a fiery red, one that was as protective as it was aggressive. Sometimes—much as she would kill Gassy if he said it—she was a pink, when she cuddled with Angel or those times when she sat out on a rock by herself, looking at nothing. Other times she became the color of flames, ready for action all the time. Maximum action.

And Gassy himself? He didn't know. That was the hardest, he had decided. Evaluating others was fine, but judging one's self was the most difficult. On his essay he had left that one blank—just as his mind went suddenly blank as he felt something collide with his head as he sat. His eyes fluttered, and he had one thought (_'Angel!') _before he slowly slid to the ground.

But under the isolating waves, Angel's mind detected nothing.

Suddenly Gazzy found himself able to see again, though he couldn't move. His hands and feet were both currently being tied, and he could feel the furry paws of an Eraser that had slung him over its shoulder. His head was aching, and he almost wished he were unconscious again, until he saw it.

A struggling Angel was being carried bridal style by an Eraser, who was quickly being gained upon by Nudge, who had Total in her backpack. As Gazzy watched, Nudge caught up to the Eraser, which seemed to be one of the older models. One of the dumber models, too, he realized when Nudge tapped it on the shoulder and it actually turned around.

For its stupidity, the Eraser received a punch in the face that made Gazzy wince. So much for looking like a model. Blood was streaming down its face, and it desperately tried to defend himself as Nudge made a mockery of its pathetic attempts to escape. In its defense, it had a struggling Angel in his arms, but still. That was no excuse.

Eventually, Nudge managed to provoke the Eraser long enough for it to throw up its hands in an attempt to begin some offensive fighting, only to drop its burden. Angel screamed as she fell, until being effortlessly caught by Nudge, who swooped down to catch her. Then the older girl flew up once more, knocked the Eraser unconscious with a swift uppercut to the jaw.

Once Angel was safely on the ground with Nudge, Gazzy felt himself returning to unconsciousness. Before he drifted off, he distinctly heard Angel's mind voice calling his name, but he was unable to answer.

**A/N: Yeah, sorry it's so short. I have to be awake tomorrow for the Fray concert! Also, I think that Gazzy is the least matured of the group. He is the second-youngest, but Angel has already experienced so much through reading people's minds. She has been exposed to a lot more in just six years, so her thinking is more complex. Don't think I don't love Gazzy—I do, he's simply young, so I have to write…youngish. Also, I did not forget about him in the earlier chapters! Angel was preoccupied with trying to escape the Erasers (wouldn't you be??) and Nudge was trying to save the one sibling that she _could _see, then find the other. There is a method to my madness…**

**A/N: If anybody needs a beta, I offer my service…**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**


	7. Max:What the hell was that, Fang?

**Disclaimer: Yes, I am a high school girl who has a published book series and a disguise as a middle-aged man. Yep, that's me. The owner of Maximum Ride.**

**A/N: Max returns at last! Don't worry, from here on most of the writing is in her POV. Here comes the Fax!**

I watched Iggy as he disappeared into the forest once more, and I could see Fang's eyes pointed in the same direction. He wasn't watching, though. His eyes pointed in that direction, but his thoughts were elsewhere.

"So what was that about?" I asked, finally wrenching my eyes away when I knew that Iggy could not overhear us. Fang tore his away as well, and seemed to zone back into this dimension.

"What was what about?" he said, but _I _knew that _he _knew what I was talking about. Just before Iggy left, when I came out of the woods behind them, he looked like he totally had a heart attack (well, since it's Fang, he just kind of twitched) when he turned around and saw me after Iggy said my name.

I raised an eyebrow imperiously. "You. Jumping like I looked like Michael Jackson or something."

"Michael Jackson?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow of his own, and for once not trying to change the subject, but actually experiencing slight confusion—a rare emotion for Fang.

I grimaced—even if Fang wasn't _intentionally _changing the subject, I was sure he would use this as an excuse to. The only reason _I _knew about people like Michael Jackson was from my brief stay at the Martinezes' house. In an attempt to scar me, Ella had forced me to watch the music video for "Bad." Well—I've seen a lot of scarring things, but this was right up there on my top five list. Below Fang when he went into psycho-killer mode, but above brain attacks.

"Michael Jackson is a black—white—something—human who got popular in the eighties with his music and then raped a bunch of kids and now he's just a joke. A very wealthy joke."

"I…see…"

It was obvious from Fang's tone that he 'saw' about as much as Iggy did, but that wasn't the point. "So what _was _that about?"

"What was _what _about?" The corners of Fang's mouth twitched.

I stepped forwards across the spot where Iggy's bomb had gone off (which was surprisingly still warm under my bare feet) and shoved him lightly. "Fang, I swear—"

"—Do you smell something?" Fang lifted his nose, sniffing at the wind, which was blowing in our direction.

"Stop trying to change the subject," I protested, shoving him back a step again.

Suddenly, I heard a hissing sound, and Fang launched himself at me, bodily propelling me backwards at least three feet. I landed hard on my back, winded, and then looked up to see Fang practically on top of me. He had braced himself as he fell (not having been randomly attacked, like I was) supporting himself above me with his hands on either side of my head. Still, it was very disconcerting to be lying on the ground with no breath in your lungs, staring up at Fang.

I heaved him off of me, then pulled myself up, fuming. "What the _hell _was that, Fang?" I demanded.

"Snake," he said simply by was of explanation.

I followed his gaze to a rustling in the grass where I had been standing (in my bare feet). If there had been a snake, Fang's superhuman speed had apparently scared the crap out of it. The explanation made sense—I had thought Fang had hissed and was having a spazz attack or something. Maybe he was PMSing.

"Oh. Um. Thanks then. Sorry—didn't mean to be a—"

_You're going to make that language a habit, and then accidentally let slip in front of the kids,_ the Voice said in my head.

"—Bitch," I finished, just to rebel. Not that it would be angry. The Voice never had any emotion at all. It was kind of aggravating, yet kind of fun at the same time—trying to piss it off enough to make it laugh, or use sarcasm, or yell—anything. Even Fang got pissed off sometimes.

"That's okay," Fang said, but his voice was…strange. Softer, somehow, than it normally was. He was looking at me funny again—but this time in a different way. I had never looked at his eyes that closely before, and I noticed that the black was really just a lot of colors put together.

_Do I have a zit or something? _I asked the Voice.

_Go with the flow, Max._

_Agh. Shut up!_

And suddenly Fang leaned forwards, and my hands shot up to my cheeks to feel if I really _did_ have a zit that he was staring at. Then he reached out with his own hand and took both my wrists and pinned them at my sides.

_Uh…what the hell?_

Before I knew what was happening, Fang's lips were on mine. They were soft and gentle, but firm against mine, insistent. His eyes were closed, and his hands were still pinning my hands at my sides. This was like that time on the beach—except I had _not _gone on this long, and I certainly didn't brush over _his _lips with _my _tongue.

I wrenched my hands out of his grip and pushed him forcibly back by the shoulders. That had felt very, _very _wrong. Did he think _I _like _him_? I did _not _like Fang! After I kissed him, I realized that it wasn't right for the flock—he was my brother, for God's sake!

"Fang, was that a bet, or are you just _insane_?"

His eyes locked with mine, and I found that I couldn't look away. Then he opened his mouth, and said:

**A/N: Sorry for the cliffhanger, I couldn't resist. You'll find out next time what Fang said. Which will hopefully be tomorrow. I'm in a writing mood. For the record—there will be Fax. Not one-sided. Max comes around soon—have hope! So what do you guys think Fang will say? Let's have a vote. Will he say it was a bet, or that he likes her, or something else? I want ten people to vote before I publish the next chapter (with the winning dialogue) so review, review, review!**


	8. Fang: How to avoid a question

Okay guys, I'm so sorry it's been so long since I've updated. I got really distracted by a guy that I'm really having mixed emotions about and needed to work out. Anyway…here's the new chapter and I hope you guys enjoy! Please review!

Just a recap:

Iggy went for pizza, leaving Max and Fang alone to talk

Nudge was left in charge, but she fell asleep

Angel and Gazzy left alone to go to the beach

Both were captured individually

Nudge was awoken by Total and flew to the beach to save the younger flock members

Angel was rescued but Gazzy is nowhere to be found

Iggy, while out for pizza, found himself in a room _full_ of Erasers

Fang kissed Max, and then Max pulled away and demanded an explanation, asking if it were a bet or if he were just insane

Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride.

"What do you think it was?"

Max looked angry and then confused. I could tell that what she wanted to think and what she was afraid to think were conflicted, and I wished that I could just tell her. Tell her that when I'm on watch, I watch her sleeping, the only time when she drops her façade of being super girl and looks vulnerable for the first time. Tell her that when she kissed me it was the happiest moment of my life. Tell her that I only kissed Lissa because I wanted to know exactly what to do when I kissed _Max._

But none of that was something I could tell her. After all, this was Max—and this was _me. _Max would probably think I was kidding, or else lose all respect for me. I wasn't supposed to be sensitive; I wasn't supposed to have feelings. Well, if only Max knew that I wasn't always like this. That one time I talked a lot, talked too much for someone else's good.

Max looked at me one more time, perplexed but mad at the same time, before suddenly her eyelids fluttered and she wavered on the spot. I was there in an instant, one arm under her neck and the other under the backs of her knees, catching her neatly and scooping her up against my chest.

Then I started striding purposefully in the direction of camp, choosing to walk rather than fly because I didn't want to draw too much attention from the Erasers on the other side of the island. Yes, Erasers. They arrived two days ago, but I was the only one who had noticed so far. They hadn't done anything yet—they seemed to still be hunting for us.

In the forest where we had set up camp, we were deep enough in that scouting around the edges would reveal no trace of us, and I had been careful to keep the flock out of the air most of the time. Plus—this was an OLD forest, full of the smells of trees and animals and even humans. It wouldn't be easy to sniff us out.

In my arms, Max stirred, and then opened her eyes, blinking up at me. Then she shook her head, her confusion dissolving.

"Fang, put me down! The younger kids are in trouble, the Voice just told me! We've got to get down to the beach."

I quickly released her, though I missed the feel of her cradled in my arms. As one, we unfurled our wings, and shot up above the tree line and into the air. Even under the current circumstances, it felt amazing to be back into the clear air again. I thought my wings would wither up after four days of disuse.

Spotting the beach, I pointed towards it and led the way there, Max a wing flap behind me.

"You're not off the hook, you know!" she yelled over the wind

I said nothing, focusing instead on using my enhanced hawk vision to zero in on two small figures sitting on the sand. Total was barking, while at least _attempting _to suppress his jumping to under six feet. Nudge was standing protectively over Angel, keeping an eye out for Erasers while the six-year-old girl sat on the sand, her head cradled in her hands. She was muttering to herself while tears leaked down her cheeks, clearly searching through nearby minds for any mention of her older brother.

When she saw her little Angel, Max put on an extra burst of speed and landed on the ground first, throwing up a wave of sand that landed in – you guessed it, _my_ eyes of course.

Blinking rapidly, I landed a little more gently. Once my eyes cleared, I saw that Max had her arms protectively around Angel, who was crying gently.

"Oh, Max," she cried, her blonde head buried in Max's chest. "We just wanted to get sand for my sandbox and then Erasers but I thought they were lifeguards, and I couldn't find Gazzy and everything is all my _fault!"_

Max brushed Angel's hair out of her eyes, saying, "Angel, it'll be okay, don't worry. It's not your fault. Does anyone remember what happened to him? And where's Iggy?"

Angel wiped her eyes on her sleeve and swallowed her tears. "Iggy went for—" she took a shuddering breath, regaining some semblance of calm, "—for pizza, but no one saw what happened to Gazzy. Nobody on the beach saw _anything_, it's like the Erasers messed with their brains or something."

Nudge was actually silent for once, her eyes wide and scared. Very uncharacteristically, I know—I sat down on the beach and pulled her into my lap, saying, "It's okay." I knew that if Nudge wasn't saying a word, she must be pretty upset. It broke my usual shell of coolness, almost as much as Max did.

Angel had suppressed her crying, and was now telling Max, "You have to go find Gassy. He's my brother, and he's in trouble, I know it!"

"Don't worry, Angel, we will. He'll be fine."

Nudge broke her silence to pipe in, "I'm coming too. It's my fault he got caught, and I'm going to help save him!"

"It's not your fault, Nudge," I told her. "It's nobody's fault. But you can come. We're going to kick some serious Eraser a—" I caught Max's disapproving look—"Eraser **_butt."_ **

Everyone stared at me as if I had just given a full-blown speech—and, since it was me, I guess I had. Finally, Max, at least found her voice. "Yes, Nudge, you can come, but Fang's staying here with Angel. Somebody has to be here when Iggy gets back."

I looked at her impassively--the finally nodded. It made sense. "Okay, Angel, let's go back to camp and wait for Iggy." She detached herself from Max and took my waiting hand, Total held in her other arm. I looked back at Max one last time before whispering, "Be safe."

Okay guys, there we have it. Sorry, again, for the shortness. I promise another chapter soon. **PLEASE **review!

Btw, if anyone wants to read the first pages of my new ORIGINAL story, or my novel, let me know. I love getting feedback, and I promise they are better than this story. Although this one will get into more Fax and fluff soon!

Love ya all, especially if you **review, **Kaya


	9. Max: Looking for Gazzy, thinking of Fang

**Hey guys, so sorry this took me so long. I had complications (both good and bad) in the guy department, catastrophes in the homework department, and a lot of crippling crunches in the dance department….but hey, all is good now, except for my abs, which are still on fire from the daily dose of torture. Ah well. Life is good, because here I am writing again, and I PROMISE another chapter this week if I get 10 reviews!**

**Disclaimer: So there's this Indian guy in my English class, who shows zero emotion and will grow up to be a dictator of some seemingly small country, which, under his leadership will buy all the shares in NASA, Google, and Apple until one day it rules the world. Anyway, I happened to mention how I'm writing a novel, and he just stares at me with blank eyes and then says, "You'll never get it published." He insisted that I would either never finish it or it would be complete crap. Well, as much as I hate to admit it, BB was right so far, because I've neither published my novel NOR Maximum Ride. Only JP is that cool.**

Max POV:

Normally, I might mention how good the wind feels under my wings, or how the sun warmed my face as we flew west, or maybe how beautiful the ocean was below us, but not today. Most people find it surprisingly difficult to notice their surroundings when a family member is missing—and unlike most people, I _like _my family.

This was Gazzy, the second-youngest in the group, only eight years old. He didn't deserve to be separated from the Flock and kidnapped by white coats. Well, I guess none of us did, but he and Angel least of all—yet who did the scientists take? I'll let you have three guesses.

The question was how to find him. When Angel was taken, we knew right away that the pitbulls-with-wings would "escort" her back to the School, but this time I wasn't so sure. I mean, Jeb—who was obviously the brains of the operation—knew how fast the Flock, and especially I, could fly, which was more than twice the speed of the badly-constructed Erasers. Jeb also would know very well how quickly the senior members of the Flock would notice one of our own missing, and that we wouldn't lose any time going after him.

So Gazzy definitely wasn't being brought to the School right away—at least not by air. And, having slept in the immediate vicinity of the Gasman, I for one know that even when catatonic, this eight-year-old was not one anyone wanted to keep in a hotel room or small vehicle. So what would Jeb tell the Erasers do?

Nudge and I were keeping an eye out for _anything _out of the ordinary, be it winged mutants in the air, vans with storage chambers for holding noxious gaseous chemicals on the highway, or mobs of citizens running from mutants in the streets.

So far I had glimpsed a flock of well-fed cows, a coach bus full of teenagers on their way to band camp, and even the odd hot air balloon, but nothing suspicious. Nudge was flying thirty yards behind me, keeping uncharacteristically silent—feeling responsible for Gazzy's kidnapping had clammed her up.

And much as I wanted to reassure her that it was nobody's fault but the School's, we had no time to lose chattering. And I knew that Nudge would feel a thousand times better when we got Gazzy back.

So, with my brain on autodrive looking out for Gazzy on a course due west, I allowed my thoughts to drift. The Voice had fallen silent again, after its sudden reappearance and the resulting brain attack had knocked me out and into Fang's arms yet again.

Fang—that was a subject that would require some serious thought. For nearly a year I was convinced that I liked him, even kissed him. Man, that was awkward. But he was just so strong and handsome and quiet, it made my heart flutter every time I got near him. To add to the heartache, the Voice kept telling me to make my move. It obviously knew how much I liked Fang—it saw my every thought, didn't it?

But sometime in the last few weeks the crush had faded almost to nonexistence. What the younger kids—Nudge, Angel, and Gazzy—didn't know was that we were planning to set up permanent residence here on the island. There was unused land for us to build a house, public schools that looked relatively normal, and even a pizza place—what more could a bunch of mutant freaks want?

Hence the stacks of lumber hidden in the woods, the visit with P. T. Beecher school's administrators, and even the sandbox experiment that had woken us all up that morning—an event that seemed very long ago, let me tell you. But in the preceding weeks, I had realized that I needed to move on from my long obsession with Fang. Settling down made me think about having a family, and I wanted to start out fresh with someone new. Fang knew all my hopes, dreams, and talents, but he also knew my fears, my weaknesses, all the embarrassing memories I'd rather forget.

No, I wanted someone brand new. So life "back at the ranch," as I read in a book somewhere, had been looking up, since I no longer had anyone to worry about in _that _way. No more awkward moments, rapid heartbeat, or secret glances in his direction. And as for Iggy—well, he was a great guy, but I wasn't much for pyromaniacs, especially after he blew up my favorite shirt.

And now all of a sudden Fang kisses me! Just like that! I mean, what the hell was that about? Couldn't he have made his move during the _year _when I liked him? Wasn't that enough time to pipe in? But no, the strong and silent Fang would never admit his true feelings, especially about something like that. Like he avoided my question before I passed out—I mean, was it just a bet after all?

Answered it with a cocky-yet-not reply like "What do you think?" That's not a response! Does he expect me to just assume that he likes me, or what? Because that would cause some serious awkwardness in our little pseudo-family, especially since we were going to be dealing with a lot now that the Erasers had shown off.

Man, now that Fang was on my mind I couldn't seem to get him out. I remembered how his lips had felt on mine, soft and yet firm at the same time, cautious and demanding. It had certainly been a lot more interesting than that kiss with Sam, that traitor back in Anne's town. But was Fang what I wanted? I didn't even know what he thought about me. I was clumsy, bossy, and not about to win a beauty contest. Why the hell would he like me.

_Focus, Maximum. Young Fang can wait, _the Voice told me, sending a twinge of pain through my system. I dutifully shook my head to clear my thoughts and looked back at Nudge to see that she was still flying purposefully, her gaze locked on the ground and her lips still sealed.

Looking back down at the ground, I saw nothing but trees and the occasional grey strip of highway. By God, was there nothing but trees in New England? Scowling, I locked my gaze on the boring landscape and let up a silent prayer to no one that we would find our Gasman.

Two hours later, my hopes were shot and my wings on fire. Nudge and I had split up and worked out a grid search pattern, but had found nothing. There was nothing out of the ordinary—it was as if the Erasers had simply disappeared, and as far as Max knew, the white coats hadn't figured that trick out yet.

Dejectedly, she caught sight of Nudge heading back towards her, shaking her head in a silent 'no.' I felt my shoulders slump, my spirits fallen once more. I had hoped that this last possible twenty square mile plot of land might be the jackpot, but no, another disappointment. I sighed, catching up with Nudge midway between us.

"Ready to head back and try again tomorrow?" I asked dejectedly, seeing Nudge's wings beating fast just to keep her upright in the air.

Nudge threw my hand off her shoulder, flapping her wings with greater energy. "No, keep going."

"Nudge," I protested, "You're exhausted, and so am I. Let's head back, get some food before we collapse, and then head back out to keep searching."

She answered me by setting her shoulders and heading back out into the wind—right before her wings folded. I sighed, before resigning myself for a long dive down to catch her. Thank God bird kids were pretty light….

**Alright, not much action, but lots for Max to think about! Don't worry, the fax is coming soon, as is the next update if you guys review! Come on, you know you want to!**


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